Chapter 2
"It's so nice to have you over, Elena. It seems like it's been ages since it's been just the two of us." Grace says, as she sets a cup of coffee down in front of me with a smile.
"I have been sorely missing our 'girl time,' Grace." I reply. "Carrick and Andrew always seem to need so much attention."
"Men," Grace sighed. "They're just so helpless without us."
"It's because they never really grow up." I say, taking a sip of the hot drink. Dark and bitter, just how I like it. "All men are just little lost boys in disguise. Every single one of them suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome. It's why women were put on this earth, Grace, to whip them into shape."
"Ha!" Grace scoffs. "If that isn't the truth. Though it seems like some of our hard work is finally paying off. Andrew and Carrick may be beyond our help, but at least Christian and Elliot seem to be on the right track-as much as some may complain about it."
The right track. Is that what Christian was on right now? Rotting away in that overpriced Ivy League daycare center, memorizing useless facts about John Wilmot's drinking habits, and chatting up repressed little girls hoping to get their first few dorm room scandals out of the way. Grace meant well for her children, no one could deny that, but this was hardly the right track for someone like Christian. I had already given him direction, purpose, and a strict sense of discipline needed to apply himself in the real world. Sending him to school was nothing but a waste of the boy's time-no matter how prodigious the name on that scrap of paper may be.
"How are the boys?" I ask.
"Oh well, Elliot seems to be doing fantastically." Grace began. "He just got his first patent! It's some sort of engine that runs off of nitrogen-Carrick could probably explain it better, but Elliot seems convinced this will be revolutionary. He even seems to have a new girl in his life. She's lasted longer than a month, so it must be love."
"Is that so? And who is this young woman who's captured Elliot's heart?"
"Her name is Kate I believe. She's from our end of the country in fact. Raised just over on Mercer Island. Her family is independently wealthy as well. Her father is some big muckety-muck in the publishing business."
"Well, that's always good to hear." I reply. "It's so difficult nowadays for young people to find a partner of good quality. This generation is so interested in getting rich quick, or famous, it's dangerous. You never seem to be able to know a person's true intentions."
"Yes," Grace sighed. "It seems that the romance of our age is all but gone. But hearing how positively giddy Elliot is about this Kate gives me hope. Now if Christian could just find someone like that." My jaw tensed slightly at Grace's words. The poor woman. As devoted as she was to her children she knew absolutely nothing about Christian. The boy could not survive in a lovey-dovey relationship popularized by pop culture. He needed a strong hand to guide him. He could only survive in the dark. I understood that, and that was why I had been able to pull him back from his self destructive brink. Lasting relationships were not built on this silly, frilly, "love" people chased. That was nothing but infatuation. It was fleeting. They were built on understanding. I understood Christian, and that is why he has faithfully been mine these last four years.
"So," I asked, taking another swig of my coffee. "There are no prospects for our dark prince?"
"Unfortunately not as of yet it seems." Grace sighed once more. Good. "You know Christian, he's never showed much interest in girls growing up." I forced my cup to my lips to hide the grin spreading across them. He had showed very much interest since I'd taken up with him. "I've actually wondered if perhaps we just are expecting the wrong things from him? We're all waiting for that day he comes home with a girl on his arm, but maybe he never has because Christian is looking for the right man instead?" I snort into my drink, nearly drowning myself at the statement. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes," I say, grabbing a gray napkin from the table to dab my face with. "You just caught me off guard. Do you really think so? Christian never struck me as possibly gay."
"Well, I just don't know, to be honest." She replies. "I just want Christian to be happy, and I worry a bit that if that's the case he may feel he has to hide that from us." Christian has many secrets about his private life, but I know this is definitely not one of them.
"Don't fret, Grace." I coo, placing my hand on her shoulder. "Remember how worried you were about him when he was in high school? You and Carrick were certain he would be in juvie before he was 16 and then off to prison from there, and now look at him. Christian is a little colder than most, a little more reserved, but he has become a fine young man. A Harvard man, even."
"You're right," Grace says, bringing her hand up to clutch mine. Her eyes are glossy with tears of gratitude. "And you seemed to be such a big part of that. I honestly don't know how I can thank you."
"No need, Grace. It was my pleasure." Indeed. "Andrew and I love you all, it's as if you are our own family. How could I not help? So don't worry too much about Christian, he will be just fine."
"Of course," Grace says, wiping a tear from her eye. "And who knows? Maybe he'll find that love at Harvard, just like Elliot did."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, yes, that Kate girl, Elliot met her while visiting Christian at school last month."
"Is that so?" First Christian's mysterious neighbor, now Elliot's new love... Harvard seemed to be quite the pickup scene. It's a wonder when any studying actually gets done.
"Yes, in fact she has a roommate Elliot mentioned. An Anna something. Ha! Wouldn't it be fantastic if Elliot or Kate could set them up?"
Anna… Ana? Could this be the same Anastasia Steele who had answered my call that night? I bite the inside of my cheek as I contemplate the notion. There was no need to be nervous. I gave Christian strict orders on Anastasia Steele at our last little meeting.
He knelt by the door, naked, as I walked into the hotel room I had reserved for our meeting. His eyes were obediently fixed on his knees as I strode past him with my well packed suitcase. He remained still as I yanked the case up onto the bed and quickly zipped it open to reveal my toys. My lips curled into a slight smirk as my newly manicured fingers brushed over them. So many things to try.
"You can get up," I say to him. Christian slowly rose from his position on the floor. "Come here."
Eyes still focused on the ground, Christan moved towards me. He already knew what was in store. Well… he had an idea. He had violated the rules and that meant only one thing.
"Lift your arms over your head and do not move them," I commanded. He obeyed without a word. Once his arms were raised I turned to grab the chastity cage from my suitcase. Christian's body tensed slightly as his eyes noticed the contraption. He had never exactly been a fan of this part in his training. I had to bite my tongue to keep from letting out a small laugh at the furrow that formed in his brow as I dropped down to fasten it over his cock. He was not allowed to get an erection until I commanded it of him, and the visible effort it was taking to keep himself under control was amusing-and enticing. I could feel my nipples harden under my blouse at the flashes of desire behind his focused eyes.
"Mmm," I hummed as I rose back to face him, sliding the cage's small silver key into my bra. The cool metal against my skin only heightened my arousal. "That's better, don't you think?"
"If it pleases you," Christian said, in his quiet, monotone voice.
"Lie down on the bed," I told him, and Christian obeyed without hesitation. Good boy. I always loved this part, the ritual of setting the scene.
Once Christian was in place, I pulled out the nylon cords I had bought specially for this-new, and extra strong. Christian's eyes were still bowed as I secured him to the headboard, and then fastened his legs, spread eagled, to the posts at the bed's end. I gave each knot a little extra tug, just enough that I knew the unwarn ties would be rubbing his skin slightly raw. With Christian bound and helpless, and silent, I returned to unpack the rest of my wares.
I fished out several candles and arranged them on the bedside table. Then with a strike of a match I lit each one. The spiced scent of the flames filled the room as I threw my leg over Christian to straddle him, my lips descending on his. There was no fight in him as he acquiesced to the rhythm of my tongue.
No, Christian, you are not going to get out of what you are owed by simply playing the puppet. My hand made its way to his thick, silky hair and I roughly grabbed it by the roots. He tensed once more as I pulled away from him.
"You're going to be punished," I breathed. "But I haven't quite decided how severely. Would you like a chance to persuade me?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a slight gasp. His self control seemed to have waned in my absence.
"But," I continued with a fake pout, "you're all tied up. What do you intend to do?"
"Would my mouth please you?" He asked. I smiled at his suggestion-the boy knew exactly how I liked to begin.
"Yes, I think your mouth will do just fine."
I slowly removed my blouse to reveal my red satin bra. Christian's pupils dilated as he took in the view. A wonderful purchase, I had to admit. I already had an ample, and firm bosom, but there is nothing better for a woman's confidence than a brassiere that accentuated her assets. I stepped off Christin to remove my black pencil skirt, and exposed my matching pantis. My fingers quickly hooked in the waistband and slid the already damp garment down my legs, and I tossed them aside. Still in my red patent leather pumps, I slithered over Christian's warm body and positioned myself over his mouth.
He arched his head up slightly, and a ripple of pleasure rolled through my body as the tip of his nose just barely brushed against my vulva. My thighs went taut as his warm breath bathed me, and his lips met my clitorus. A low growl escaped my throat as he began to suck on the tender tissue. I felt his tongue begin to explore me at the approving sound, and I relaxed myself over him to allow better access.
I could feel it darting in and out of me, before gliding along my lips, and circling my clitorus. My body temperature rose as Christian worked, and shocks of gratification ran through me-my breathing ragged.
"Ah!" I cried as he suddenly nipped me, hard. God damn, he had certainly taken my lessons to heart. He became more and more aggressive at my show of enjoyment, eating me like a wolf does its prey. My hips started to move on their own volition, grinding against Christian's mouth, hoping for more and more of his wet, and dexterous tongue to slide inside of me.
"Yes!" I screamed, driving my nails into his skin underneath me to edge him on. "Just like that."
He bit down once more on my clitorus and I exploded, my pleasure rocketing through every nerve in my body.
I'm not sure how long I allowed myself to bask in my ecstasy, but once I regained the ability to move, I collapsed next to Christian on the bed. I panted heavily as I tried to catch my breath. Apparently my self control had waned in his absence as well. Christian would surely be expecting some kind of reward at my display. Little shit.
I quickly pulled myself together and moved to lap my orgasm from Christian's chin, and roughly kissed him. He moaned into my mouth, and I smiled. Not yet, Christian. I'm hardly done with you.
"Tell me about the girl," I whispered against him.
Christian went stiff. He knew he was in trouble. But why should he feel he was in trouble, unless he was, in fact, hiding something? I could feel the euphoria that had flooded me quickly being drowned out by rage, which only grew stronger at each second Christian remained quiet. He was making a decision. I could almost see his thoughts-weighing the options of telling me the truth or attempting to lie.
"What girl?"
The smile fell from my face as I stared coldly back into his eyes. They were clouded by fear.
"You're a smart young man, Christian," I replied. "Do not play stupid with me. The girl. The girl you had in your room. The girl who answered the phone when I called. Anastasia Steele." I could feel him tremble slightly as my scarlet nails ran up his sternum. The more I unnerved him the harder it would be for him to lie.
"I've told you," he continued through clenched teeth, "She lives across the hall from me. She was waiting in my room while Elliot fucked her roommate."
With a sigh I slid off the bed to reinspect my suitcase. Sitting right at the top was my very favorite accessory: my leather strap flogger. Christian gave an audible gulp as I pulled it from the case and fingered it.
Yes, Christian, this is going to hurt.
I lifted it high above my head, and slammed it, hard, onto Christian's chest. He grunted in pain as the leather tore at his skin.
One. Before the boy could catch his breath I whipped my arm back up and down.
Two. The skin was already growing an angry red at the flogger's touch.
Three. His gasps grew louder as his nerves started to grow raw.
Four. He started to writhe slightly, but my just-too-tight knots held him firm.
Five. You knew this would happen, Christian. You have to be punished. How else will you learn right from wrong?
Six. A white hot shock of pleasure ripped through me as his beautiful face contorted into a grotesque mask of pain, somehow even more beautiful in its horror.
Seven.
I stopped. Christian's breaths came in short fragmented gasps, as I draped the straps over his shoulder.
"Why don't we try again?" I said. "I'll be clearer this time. Do you think it's appropriate to have a girl in your room at all, regardless of what Elliot is doing to her roommate?"
"Nothing happened," he spat, the desperation in his voice betraying his lie.
Immediately I grabbed the lash and struck him once more. I could see his eyes light up as the pain morphed into pleasure for him.
"I've known you a long time, Christian. I know when you're upset, I know when you're happy, I know when you're just about at your pain limit… and I know when you're lying to me.
"I didn't fuck her," he said.
"So what did you do?" I asked. Finally, we were getting somewhere.
"Nothing. I told you, I was doing homework."
I whipped him. Again. Again. And again. Christian sucked at his lips to keep himself from crying out as the flesh on his chest began to swell from the flogger's continuous caress. The strain brought a glisten to his skin as he started to sweat. The boy had always had an extremely high tolerance for pain. He'd never even safe worded. Not once.
Perhaps now was time to truly test that limit.
"What did you do, Christian?" I asked again.
"Nothing! Nothing happened."
"You never make this easy, do you?" I said, shaking my head. Throwing the flogger down, I snatched a candle from the bedside table. I watched as his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as I tilted the candle. A single drop of molten wax splashed down on Christian's already brutalized chest. The slight writhing became a panicked struggle. Christian pulled at his restraints, his body acting on its own. He had a fear of fire, and being burned. That whore who'd birthed him had let her junkie fucks put cigarettes out on his skin. Even as I looked at his bare chest, under the welts, and wax I could see the scars of those poorly healed wounds.
"Fuck!" He screamed as I tipped the candle once more.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," I clicked my tongue at him. He'd be unable to lie at this threat. "Tell me, Christian. Tell me everything that happened."
Christian's eyes darted around, as he looked for some escape. There was no escape from this punishment, Christian. The drip drip drip of the wax became a torrent of burning liquid spilling onto him.
"I kissed her!" he screamed. I stopped. Not to reward him, he deserved nothing but punishment, but out of a moment of shock.
He'd kissed her. He'd actually admitted he had kissed this "girl from across the hall." Anastasia Steele. Christian shivered in terror as I stared back at him. He was waiting for something, anything. He knew he was going to be punished beyond anything he'd experienced yet. His eyes followed me as I reached up and pulled the cord that bound his hands loose. He remained still, a confused look on his face as I moved to free his legs as well.
"Get up," I told him. He immediately jumped to his feet. "Turn around and put your hands on the wall." He did so without protest.
As he stared at the wall I pulled my small cane from my bag. He flinched as I stroked his back with it. The fear I was able to draw from him at these moments was intoxicating-better than any drug out there.
"Who do you belong to?" I said softly.
"You."
"What is the first rule?" I asked.
"I will obey you and submit to any sexual activity or punishment you deem necessary, or pleasurable, eagerly and without hesitation." He answered.
"And what happens when you break the rules?" I said, pressing the cane into his back.
"Failure to comply with the rules will result in immediate punishment."
"So you agree," I said to him, "that you deserve this?"
He took a long, deep breath. "Yes."
"Good," I said, but without any of my usual humor. "Then I'm going to hit you twelve times."
"If it pleases you." He said. I brushed my cane lightly against him once more, and watched as the muscles in his toned back each tried to relax, readying itself for the blows.
There was a sharp whistle as the cane sang through the air, ending with an abrupt thump on Christian's back. But Christian stayed silent.
It takes one, two, three more blows before the pain overcomes his ability to hold back his grunts. By the eighth blow his red welts started becoming a deep purple. I hit him even harder, grunting myself as I put all my weight into wielding the cane. Nine. Ten. Elven. Twelve.
Sweat ran down his back as he stood with his hands still against the wall. And still no safe word. I could feel my blood positively boiling at the lack of it, with rage but also desire. There was nothing more I wanted to do than break Christian Grey, but his strength was not only his greatest attribute, but my accomplishment. When he came to me he was weak, and unfocused. It was me who built his endurance and taught him to control himself. He did belong to me. Every single atom in his body had been molded by me to form this masterpiece.
"Get- on the bed-," I told him through labored breathing. He all but ran to it as I threw the cane down on the mattress. Fine, if pain won't break him perhaps the desire for pleasure will.
From my suitcase I lift out my large rubber strap-on. Christian looked at it dubiously, probably thinking I meant to use it on him. But instead I clipped it around his waist, threw my leg over him, and lowered myself down onto the erect rubber mold. His eyes and mouth were wide with horror as he watched me grind myself against him, moaning loudly, but receiving none of the pleasure.
The more violent my thrusts became, the more Christian attempted to touch me, but I slapped his hands away. His cock would be aching now, trapped in that cage, and harder than he'd ever been in his life. He gasped in pain, which only spurred me on as I continued to ride him. For fifteen long minutes I rocked Christian, deriving my own pleasure from his suffering, until I erupted around the cock that wasn't his. When I pulled myself from on top of him I rolled back onto the bed, panting.
"I want you to clean up and repack my bag." I said breathlessly. And, as I continued to lie on the bed, Christian got up and did as ordered. Once his task was completed I reached up, gripped him by the hair and kiss him possessively. Then, without releasing his cock from its confinement, or even looking back to acknowledge him, I walked back into my room, through our adjoining door.
He would have to spend the night with his pain and disappointment. Not just that night, the next night as well. It wasn't until Sunday that I decided to release him.
"You've pleased me," I told him, having just come once more while he was forced to simply watch. "You've done everything I've asked and done it well. I think you've suffered enough, don't you?"
"If you think so," he replied.
"Mmm," I moaned in a low sensual tone, "come here." As he walked towards me, I reached into my bra to fish out the little silver key that unlocked his cage. I slowly knelt down, clicked the lock open, and eased the cage off his member. I could see a rush of release wash over him as he was freed. I smiled at his reaction, then very gently, wrapped my mouth around him.
A desperate gasp of pleasure escaped him. Excruciatingly slowly I bobbed down, and back up, pulling off to ask him, "do you want to fuck me, Christian?"
"Yes, if it pleases you." He said, with excitement. I ran my tongue down his length, massaging the sensitive skin of his staft.
"Take me," I whispered. "You're in charge. Fuck me hard."
Immediately Christian took me by the arms and threw me onto the bed on my stomach, pulling my hips up in the air. Without any more foreplay, or ceremony he thrusted himself fully into me. Over and over again he buried himself into me to the hilt, gripping my ass. I felt his need growing as each thrust became more violent. I'd driven him beyond the limits even he thought he could go. He never needed this more, and I never wanted it more. His raw, animal power.
He slapped my ass, and the sting only heightened the pleasure of his cock inside me. He did it again, and again. Oh god, the intensity started to overwhelm me. He jerked my hair back and it sent a chill down my whole spine. I felt my walls grip around him as I came.
"Cum for me, Christian!" I begged. I needed him to cum for me, to prove he was truly mine. "Cum for me, baby."
He continued to thrust through my pleasure. It took him a few extra seconds, but finally he released into me. Good boy. Must have had more pent up need than I realized.
"Fuck!" He hissed as he came, collapsed on top of me, and rolled onto the mattress. It was amazing, and intense. I turned over to kiss him once more.
"Feel better?" I asked.
"Yes, thank you Ma'am."
As Christian tried to regain his breath I glanced at the bedside clock. "I have to leave," I pouted. "My flight is in a few hours."
"Okay," he breathed.
"Will you be sad to see me go?"
"Of course," he said, and I kissed him before ruefully rolling out of bed. Christian helped me to collect and organize my things. As I headed out the door I wrapped Christian in a tight hug, but before I turned to leave I slapped him hard across the face.
"Ah!" he cried out. "What was that for?"
"You won't see her again." I told him. "I mean it. Anastasia Steele is no longer any part of your life."
"I understand." He said.
"Good," I replied. "Because if I find out otherwise, I'll have you in that cage for a month."
And I had meant it. But now here Grace was, talking about some "Ana" and hoping Elliot would set her up with Christian.
"And what do we know of this 'Ana' exactly?" I ask Grace, taking another sip of my quickly cooling coffee. Of course it was about that damn girl. That little college slut, Anastasia Steele. What kind of name was "Anastasia Steele"? Were her parents hoping to raise a porn star? Be that as it may, there was no way in hell this little girl would be able to take Christian from me.
I taught him everything he knew. I'm the one who knew his darkest and most shameful secrets and desires. He is completely under my control. But still, it never hurts to gather information.
"Oh, unfortunately not much," Grace replies. "You know the boys. It was hard enough getting Elliot to open up about Kate, and once he did that's all he wanted to focus on. Still, a mother can dream she's just as fantastic a match for Christian that Kate seems to be for Elliot," Grace shrugs.
Damn it, Elliot is as useless as ever. Perhaps it's time for me to take another quick trip to Cambridge. Just to check in on his resolve, and remind him of his place. I refuse to have all my hard work on Christian undone by some starry-eyed co-ed, and Grace's well intentioned-but misguided-meddling. For Christian's own good, I need to kill this baby it its bed.